


Keeping the Ghosts Away

by allin_ev_itable



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: Depictions of OCD, I also didn't proofread, I wrote this in one quick sweep, It doesn't actually happen, M/M, Mentions of Attempting Suicide, Mentions of PTSD, My wrist hurts from typing, mentions of guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 09:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15167261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allin_ev_itable/pseuds/allin_ev_itable
Summary: It happens every night at the same exact time. Wayne doesn't know that Nick isn't asleep this time.





	Keeping the Ghosts Away

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a thread I did on tumblr so part of it might be references from other people

It was the same routine every single night, at exactly 8:45. Wait for the door to Nick’s bedroom to close, walk down the small hallway to make sure there were no signs that he was still awake, walk back to the kitchen, time check.

A short breath, time check.

A twitch in his hand, time check.

Wayne pulled open the kitchen drawer to obtain the box he kept there, knowing for sure Nick never had anything in that particular drawer and therefore, had no reason to open it. Carrying the box to the table, he carefully opened it and pulled out the item it contained. The shiny metal of the handgun just never seemed to shine the way it did when he first received it. It had marks and scratches and looked like it was a physical representation of his own emotional damage. Perhaps it made sense why he still handled it so often.

He waited patiently for the hand counting the seconds on his watch to hit the twelve, and when it did his mind seemed to have flipped a switch as he quickly disassembled the weapon and started to clean it. His mind was in a frenzy as it raced through memories of a time he wished he could forget and the unshakeable urge to just get this over with. It was a relieving yet horrible feeling, but it was one he couldn’t just let go of. He was in too deep, trapped in a never-ending cycle that his schedule displayed.

Nick, however, hadn’t gone to sleep. He’d been laying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Ever since Wayne had moved in, the apartment was damn near spotless and reorganized. Nick acted like he hated it, and faked irritation to keep from showing just how grateful he was to no longer be living in a messy environment that he’d never had the time or motivation to clean up. He didn’t want to get too close to Wayne. They were friends, sure, that was okay. He couldn’t take any more than that.

Not again.

It wasn’t entirely clear how Wayne and Nick even became friends to begin with. Wayne had said it was a little while after he’d start running the club circuit, when the two of them had started around the same time and were seeing each other at pretty much every gig they played. Nick, however, would say they didn’t really start to become friends until one night after a gig, they stayed behind to have a couple drinks which led to him trying to practically carry Wayne home _(“For a guy who’s so put together, you sure are a mess of a drunk.”)._

It also isn’t entirely clear when it first started. Maybe it was a subtle bump of their hands as they walked together to their gigs, or when Wayne would smile at him whenever he’d start playing high notes. Maybe it was how Nick just couldn’t stand how each night it got harder and harder to see Wayne laugh and talk and be so damn close to him then just leave to return home to his wife.

Yeah, that was it. That’s when he and Wayne started fooling around. It was always quick and mixed with thousands of emotions and always ended in zero eye contact as Wayne left to go home before he wife grew suspicious. For a while, Nick was completely content with their unspoken agreement. 

Until Wayne’s kids were born.

After that, Nick started seeing him at gigs less and less, and the rare times he did he noticed how thoroughly exhausted he was. Once, he nearly popped the slide all the way out and hit someone else during warmup. That was around the time Wayne stopped coming to new gigs all together. 

_ "I found a consistent band to play with,” he’d said, a smile not quite meeting his eyes, “Pays more than doing last minute gigs.” _

_ “...Well what about-” _

_ “Yeah, that...that has to stop too. I’ve got kids to worry about now.”  _

The way that Wayne phrased that never left his mind. He’d never said it had to stop because of his wife, or because he didn’t enjoy what they were doing. He just wanted to focus on his kids. Nick understood that. He respected it. Though, he couldn’t say he was completely happy with how abruptly things ended. He also couldn’t say that he didn’t miss it.

When the war ended and he finally made it home, Nick almost didn’t recognize Wayne. He was the reflection of the marines people saw in photographs, perfect hair and stance included. His developed habits that were a side effect of combat shocked him, but he wasn’t upset about them. He never got irritated about them. All the guys had their thing, and it was a universal knowledge among all of the members of the Donny Nova Band to respect those things.

After twenty minutes of his continue ceiling staring and realizing he wasn’t getting to sleep anytime soon, he stood up from the bed and made his way out of his room to get a glass of water. He was sure Wayne wasn’t already asleep. He was usually up until about ten rearranging chairs or whatever the hell he did when Nick was asleep. Though, the sound of clattering and rattling was familiar and oddly new in his apartment.

As he turned the corner into the kitchen, his blood went cold as all the color drained from his face.

He knew Wayne had a gun. Hell, he even had one, but it was locked away and he never planned to bring it out again. It was a reminder of a difficult time that he dared not mention, and seeing that reminder would only make it worse. Seeing Wayne with a gun, however, was utterly terrifying given the times he alluded to just making everything stop and ending it all. And Nick had already lost enough to that goddamn war. He was not going to lose anyone else, especially not Wayne.

“What the _ fuck _ are you doing?” he asked, keeping his tone quiet yet firm. Wayne nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Nick’s voice. He hadn’t even heard him come in. 

“I thought you were asleep.” That’s all Wayne could think to say, still mildly startled as he moved the gun from one hand to the other. He needed something to keep his hands, and more importantly, his mind busy.

Nick shook his head and walked over to him, trying to think of how to handle this situation as calmly as he could without falling apart. “Jesus Christ, Wayne, are you insane?” Wow. He was so good at this. Great start.

“Wha..? No, oh God no I’m not-” He had to stop himself, the pure terror in Nick’s eyes scaring him a little as well. “I was just cleaning it. It’s not a big deal.”

“I beg to differ, it is a big fucking deal when I see someone I care about standing in my kitchen with a gun! I don’t wanna come in here in the morning and see you dead on the floor. I’ve already seen too many people die and I’ll be  _ damned _ if one of them is you!”

Wayne was absolutely shocked. The gun didn’t even have bullets in it, but he knew where Nick was coming from. He kept his bullets in another drawer, out of sight. The way he sometimes hinted at actually going through with it would worry anyone, but he was surprised that Nick actually said that he cared about him. He was a selfish bastard most of the time. And Wayne knew he had a softer side to him. He’d seen it more times than probably anyone else, but after the whole ordeal after his kids were born, and he had basically just dropped what they were doing with no further explanation, why did Nick still care? “...Why do you care?”

Nick paused and took a step back, looking at Wayne as though he’d just told him this was all a hallucination and he was still back in that P.O.W. camp. “...What?”

“Why. Do. You. Care?” he asked, his hands trembling slightly and making the gun look like it was bound to fall out of his hands at any given second.

“Because I do, okay?! Because- God, because I like it when you put my clothes up. Because I like seeing you when you first wake up and you’re an absolute mess until you’ve drank nearly an entire pot of coffee. Because I like watching your disgusted face when you empty your spit valve during rehearsals. Because ever since you’ve moved in I can’t stop thinking about how happy I was whenever I’d get to fucking kiss you! That’s why I fucking care!”

They both looked shocked when he finished, Nick because he didn’t expect to ever say any of that out loud, and Wayne because he didn’t think Nick ever thought about that anymore. At least, not like he did.

The few seconds of stunned silence were hell. Absolute hell. Until Wayne shakily set the gun down on the table, and turned back to look at him. “...Are you gonna keep standing there, or are you going to kiss me?”

That was definitely not what Nick was expecting him to say, but he didn’t object. He couldn’t. This was a brief moment, an opportunity that he had been wanting for far too long. It’s like what Donny had said before: “Times like this you hold on to what’s real.”

Nick was definitely holding on to this. Because Wayne was real, and the warm feeling of lips against his own, that was real too. 

Wayne and Nick knew for fact that they were going to hold on. If not for themselves, for each other.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried eh
> 
> STALK ME CORNER
> 
> Instagram: @allin_ev_itable  
> Tumblr: @allin-ev-itable  
> Twitter: @allin_ev_itable


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